We researched and scouted Danielle's hunt area extensively over the summer, so we were fairly confident that we would be successful there. Since we didn't "need" the meat from a caribou to last us this year, I knew that hunting a caribou would likely result in us having meat to last us about two years. With two years worth of meat potentially in the freezer, it would give us no reason to hunt for moose or caribou during 2014. However, there was still a small chance Danielle would not harvest a moose at her hunt. Weighing all these factors in, I decided I would hunt my caribou tag with the sole purpose of only pursuing a very large or unique caribou (more meat to actually last us two years and more of a challenge).
Because we spent most of our efforts scouting and researching Danielle's hunt area, I didn't know too much about my hunt area. So I set out two days prior my hunt start to get a good feel for my hunting area. The weather was gorgeous those two days; I actually had to put sun screen on (but then again, I use that stuff in the winter too... thanks mom for the sensitive skin). Prior to heading north, I had four different general plans on what I wanted to do based on what the weather was doing and any available info I came across. I ended up settling on the plan of, "go as far away from the road as possible on the ATV, way above treeline, where you don't see anyone around, and where you know nothing about." This plan sounded like the most fun and adventurous one out of all my options. So that is exactly what I did. I found a promising ATV trail the day before my hunt. It was late afternoon when I actually found the trail tho. I thought to myself, "I'll ride to the end of this trail and then come back to the truck to sleep." Well that round trip ended up taking 6 hours. At one point I thought, "If I don't get to the end of this trail on some promising hunting ground soon, I'm not going to ride my ATV all the way back in here tomorrow with all my hunting stuff not knowing what was at the end of the trail." Well right after that was going through my head, I came upon a massive valley... and the end of the trail. PERFECT! This is where I was going to hunt for the next 5 days.
SOME PICTURES FROM PREHUNT SCOUTING
This was the first area I had in mind. I rode around these mountains for a while and didn't see any sign of recent caribou. This place usually has caribou around later in the year. Not having a good feeling about here, I left without looking back.
A cool little valley with a big lake in the bottom of it. I thought long and hard about hunting this spot for the week, but I decided against after I thought that it was too specific of a hunting area compared to my broad options.The following picture of a bear who apparently couldn't stop walking to take a dump deterred me as well.
A peaceful little beaver pond out in the middle of nowhere. The beaver was pretty active that day (in the middle of the picture) and didn't like me riding near his home.
This was by the beaver pond. It is a hundred caribou tracks in fresh mud. There must have been a big heard of them push through the area a couple days prior. Dang it... just missed them.
The end of the trail... and my newly found hunting grounds!
It was a late night riding back to the truck!
On my way back to the truck, I saw something weird. There was a helicopter hovering low to the ground that had people in orange vests jumping out and then back in. I couldn't tell what they were doing or who they were, but I have never seen that before.
I returned to the truck at dark. I then drove about 40 miles to town to get cell phone service to update Danielle on my plans. I texted her my planned camp coordinates and told her that I would call her as soon as I got out. This was a Sunday night. I told her that I plan to call her sometime Saturday, however, do not panic until dark Sunday night as there is a chance I could be coming out empty handed on Saturday and stumble across a caribou then. She also knew that I would call her earlier if I was successful sooner.We hung up and I drove back to the trail-head to sleep in the truck for another night.
Tuesday was the hunt opener, so I had all day Monday to take my time getting in to my hunt spot and setting up camp. I woke up Monday morning to pouring rain and fog everywhere. I took this opportunity to sleep in a little bit. By 10, the rain turned to a sprinkle. I knew the forecast for the next couple of days... CLOUDY, RAIN, LOWS IN THE UPPER 30s and HIGHS IN THE UPPER 40s TO LOWER 50s, so this light sprinkle was going to be my best bet to head in to my camp area.
I unloaded the ATV, strapped all my gear down, and headed down the trail. To my surprise, the trails were in excellent condition. The weather had been so dry for a week or so prior to this rain that the water wasn't pooling yet. BONUS!! About 2 miles in, I came across a couple grouse chilling on the trail. Believe it or not, I packed three different guns with me: .338 hunting rifle, my .22 long range small game rifle, and the .44 mag bear handgun. I thought about taking the grouse with me for dinner, but decided against it knowing that I didn't have anything to keep them cool or wanting to attract anything to my camp looking for blood. Those were the first grouse I have passed on when I had the means to take them with me.
Well I think those grouse were cursed, because as soon as I passed them, the weather took a turn for the worse. The sprinkle turned in to rain and the wind started howling. After a couple more miles, I was above treeline and there was no protection from the wind. This is about this time that I realized the "waterproof" gloves that Danielle got me were really water resistant. I used to love those gloves, but I instantly hated them. Even worse, those were the only gloves I brought with me for the hunt. Well after many hours of riding, I arrived at camp. This is when I found out that my waterproof jacket had also failed me. My chest and torso was also drenched from the tsunami I just rode through. Luckily for me, the precipitation stopped as soon as I arrived and it gave me a chance to set up my tent without anything getting wet and to change in to my only spare clothes. Apparently the rain was waiting for me get in my tent because as soon as I got in it to arrange everything, it started dumping again... and didn't let up the rest of the day. Instead of risking my only dry clothes (currently on) getting wet, I decided to stay in the tent the rest of the day.
I got in the tent with the intention of studying my GPS and the terrain to determine my plan for the next five days. Well turns out the damn thing would not turn on! I was shocked. I just changed the batteries before riding into the hunt area. This got me a little worried especially because of how far in I was without another person in sight (I didn't see anyone for the entire week actually). I didn't freak out because the atv trail was easy to follow back without many branches. The only issue was my ability to hike far from camp, I couldn't really explore beyond a couple miles for fear of getting lost. The other bad thing about no longer having a GPS is that the sole reason I got this type of GPS was to utilize the weather radio and to call for help if needed... kiss that goodbye. I would later regret not having a working GPS.
You would think that staying in the tent for so long would result in some good rest. WRONG! I got in to my sleeping bag and as soon as I got comfortable, POP... my sleeping pad just went flat. I looked it over and there was a huge rip in the bottom of it. Awesome. I am now on a hunt without any padding between me and the rocky ground on top of this mountain. Luckily, the spot I pitched my tent didn't have too many jagged rocks underneath it. Don't let that fool you tho; sleeping during the hunt was really uncomfortable, but doable.
I set my watch for 5AM the next day. I got up, only to find the weather decided to all settle in the valley that I was planning to hunt. It was foggy and rainy. No worries tho. I had an incredible amount of energy and excitement built up to get out and hunt. I put on my second set of rain clothes that I somehow thought I needed to pack (too bad I didn't pack extra gloves) and I headed out. I was so excited that I skipped breakfast and grabbed some bars to take with for lunch. (I later realized that skipping breakfast became a daily thing and something this 6'8" body is not used to doing without, especially since I down about 3 bowls of cereal every morning for typical breakfast). Without a GPS, I decided to just side-hill the mountain side I was camped on to a little cleavage in the mountains that I figured would function as a funnel for traveling caribou. About 10 minutes after I left camp, I saw my first caribou. It turned out to be the oldest caribou I have ever seen. It was a cow, and she wasn't doing too well. She had many grey hairs and her antlers were only about 12 inches long and they hooked backwards like goat horns. She was limping and could not put any weigh on her front right leg. It was interesting to see her walk, as she was fairly nimble on the mountain with only three legs working. She was accompanied by two other cows and a calf. They were probably within 100 yards of me and they had no idea I was there. I just sat and watched them until they walked far enough in the other direction to disappear. I continued on my way and found an absolutely perfect place to sit and watch the valley, the cleavage, as well as being within shooting distance of a heavily traveled game trail. I though to myself, "this is it, this is the rock I will be sitting on for 10-12 hours a day until I find a caribou."
The rest of that day was filled with sitting still on a rock. I could see for miles in every direction and in between fog clouds I would glass (the term for searching for animals through the binoculars) the land looking for caribou. Caribou are roamers. They do not stay in one place for long. They typically move and graze at the same time. I tell you this because sitting and being patient is good strategy for caribou hunting... they will eventually come to you; you just have to be patient. I had high hopes for this spot. There were well traveled game trails everywhere, scat every 10 steps you took, and old caribou rack sheds laying on the ground. It ended up raining the entire first day, most of the time lightly.
Yes, sitting on that rock for that long can get a little boring and tedious, but if you keep in mind the reason you are doing it and hold on to the fact that a monster caribou could appear out from the bushes at anytime, it's well worth it. An hour after sitting on the scouting rock, I had a group of four carribou walk 30 feet in front of me. They had no idea I was there. This group had two cows and two small bulls. I knew I could shoot one of the bulls and end the hunt early, but I try to stick to the plan as best as possible.
I ended up seeing an average of 35+ caribou each day I hunted that spot. That's well over 100 caribou for the week, but really only comes out to 1 every 20 minutes. I estimate that the ratio of cows to calves to bulls was 2:2:1. Most of the caribou I saw were a couple miles away and unreachable due to the fact that it would be too difficult to pack the animal that far back to camp. However, I easily had a legal caribou in shooting distance every day I was hunting, just nothing large enough to meet my established standards for that hunt.
The days got pretty repetitive. Wake up early, put on my wet rain gear, sidehill to the glassing rock, sit in the rain with wet hands (which SUCKED), fight the fog to see the land, watch many cows, calves, and small bulls as they grazed on their way by, keep hoping for something big to showitself, pray that the weather would lighten up, head back to camp a little after 6 to beat the evening storm, eat some dinner, head to bed, repeat.
You might find it interesting that there was a break in the rain on Thursday during the day. Yup, it stopped raining... and started snowing!!!! An August 22 snow is a record for me. By this point, my fingers were hating me, cold, wrinkled, without much feeling. An interesting fact about my left hand, when it gets below 40 degrees out and my hand gets cold, it starts to weaken. My left hand can not grip or utilize the muscles correctly. I can't even squish a fly between my fingers in those conditions. Remember that for later.Well that day got worse and the evening storm decided to start at about 2PM that day. I knew the visibility during this storm would not allow me to hunt and I assumed it was not going to let up so I called it an early day and headed back.
Lucky me, I knew the hunting may get rained in a couple days, so I had a book to keep me occupied (the first voluntary book I have read since graduation). Of course, the book put me to sleep. I was then awaken by something I have never heard before. It was the loudest explosion I have ever heard. I thought it was a gunshot at first, or maybe a rockslide. But as I listened carefully, I could hear fighter jets high in the sky, then all of a sudden, I could no longer hear them, and then immediately after the loud explosion, I could once again hear them. I have never heard a sonic boom or the sound wave being broken, but I'm 95% confident the Airforce was the cause of these sounds. Cool, but scary at first.
The weather ended up keeping me in the tent for the remainder of the day. I was pretty depressed with the constantly crappy weather, poor sleep I was getting, always being wet, only seeing small caribou, burning energy with no return, a small supply of water, and only one day left to really hunt.
Friday morning came and once again, the weather was foggy and raining. I decided to snooze my alarm and sleep (or attempt to sleep) in a little. At about 9AM I heard the faint sound of another ATV. Turns out that is exactly what I needed to get me going for the day. I realized that I needed to get up and get to my spot in case this person may also know about that area. I quickly got dressed and headed to my spot.
It was the same old story as the previous hunting days.I sat there reflecting on my hunt knowing this was the last couple of hours I would be hunting for caribou this season. Even tho it was an unsuccessful and miserable week, I was content. I came to terms with the situation and decided that although I was unsuccessful, I enjoyed every second of being outside in Alaska, even tho it was in less than ideal conditions. I was satisfied with having the daily opportunity to take a legal bull, but passing. I hung on to hope that we would connect later in the season on a moose. I was happy to know I put my gear through some of Alaska's nasty weather, and knew how it would hold up. I proved to myself that I was emotionally strong to endure the adverse conditions and malfunctions and still enjoy the time I was blessed with.
At 6PM, I stood up and thought, "Well Adam, it was a good hunt. I'm not taking an animal home, but I'm taking home a great experience." I headed back to my tent like I did every evening. Every evening, I would usually cook dinner and hit the hay early to get up early for the next day. Well Saturday was not a scheduled hunting day, so I varied the routine a little. I got to the tent and laid down to rest for a second. After laying down for about 20 minutes, I saw a glow on the tent door. Hot damn, the sun actually decided to make an appearance!! I immediately knew I wasn't going to be laying in this tent when the sun was shining, I was going to be out there soaking it up!! To soak it up, I decided to go watch caribou on the other side of the mountain. I grabbed my binoculars and hiked about 500 yards to a point overlooking the tent and the hills on the other side of the mountain. I was in a hypnotic state enjoying the sun beaming down on me.
As I glassed, I could see many different small caribou groups in the distance. Even tho I was done hunting and I couldn't shoot cows or many of the caribou that were miles away, I still enjoyed just observing them. Again, none of these caribou were any different in size from the ones I saw earlier that week. I sat there watching the caribou and soaking up the sun for about an hour.
At about 7:30, I decided it was time to go get some dinner. I took one final binocular sweep across the base of the mountain I was on. At the end of my sweep I could not believe my eyes (I am getting goose bumps typing this). It couldn't be... it was!!! A large bull caribou was sitting in a batch of bushes and the only thing I could see was his huge rack sticking out. I would not have seen the caribou if he didn't twitch his head right when my binoculars were over the bushes he was in. My stomach instantly sank and my heart started racing. I looked down at my watch, and ran some numbers in my head. Could I do this? Is he close enough? Do I have enough daylight? Was this a bull that met my high standards for the hunt? I answered YES to all these. I immediately ran to the tent, gathered my gear, and headed toward the where the bull was.
I estimated that the bull was about 3/4 a mile away. When I started heading in his direction, I realized he was now standing up, grazing, and headed in the opposite direction. I felt my heart collapsing. Stocking a caribou that is headed away from you is like chasing Usain Bolt in the Olympics... you're not going to catch him. I decided to try anyway, hoping he would be slow having just took a nap and no real place for him to go because of the looming darkness. Lucky me the hike to where the bull was grazing was all downhill. I closed the gap on him in a matter of minutes; he didn't really move out of the bushes he was originally in, and that surprised the crap out of me.
It was more difficult than I thought getting to the bull. Difficult because I was going down the mountain and had nothing to hide behind. I had to make sure he could not see me and I could only move when he put his head down in the bushes to eat. I eventually got to where the bull was and immediately panicked because the wind direction was horrible. Wind was blowing directly from my back right to him. Fortunately, he didn't smell me. I'm not sure how that was possible after a week of not showering and just running down the mountain to that spot. I closed the distance between me and him to 200 yards. I found a rock to rest on and waited for the bull to side track out of the bushes he was behind. He slowly walked out from behind the bushes and I just sat there staring at how magnificent he was. I then gained my focus, lowered my right eye to the scope, closed my left eye, aimed behind his front shoulder, and slowly squeezed the trigger. BOOM. This is the moment when hunting that time stands still.You are temporarily deaf from the gunshot, you stay staring down your scope, your not exactly sure what the animal is going to do, your mind is rushing with "what ifs" and all of this is topped with a feeling of grief for the animal. In this instance, the bull instantly dropped.
I did it. I couldn't believe it. One second I was counting my blessings for a great learning experience, and the next second I'm counting my blessings for achieving my goal for the hunt. I waited for 10 minutes and then approached the bull. I spent a moment to express my gratitude and reflect in what just happened (Danielle and I are forever grateful for the opportunity to harvest animals, and because of this, we thank each one we take).
Now the hard part began. It was a little past 8PM and the sun was already starting to set. I dropped my bag and headed back up the mountain to retrieve the atv. Fortunately, I shot the bull only a half mile off the ATV trail and what appeared to be ridable terrain to retrieve the bull. I got to the ATV and eventually found my way to the caribou. I knew it was going to get dark soon, so I parked the ATV so I could eventually turn my headlights on to help light up the area.
This was the first caribou I field dressed on my own. It wasn't as hard as I thought it was going to be. The difficult part was the inability to use my left hand. Again, the weakness set in due to the temperature, and to compound matters, I was dehydrated so it kept cramping and becoming rigid. It was also a little difficult working in the dark, which seemed to set in around 9PM. The atv headlight and my own headlamp made it doable tho. You can't imagine how eary and creepy it is to be cutting up an animal in the middle of the Alaska wilderness knowing there are predators out there that would love to eat what was in my hands. Well this paranoia instantly become a fear when I heard a pack of wolves howling in the background. That immediately told me I was taking too long to cut this caribou up and that I needed to hurry along. I finished cutting him up around 11:30PM, about 30 minutes after the howls. I quickly realized that the mountain I just drove the atv down is no longer luminated from the daylight. I also realized that the steepness of the terrain would not allow me to transport all the meat in one trip due to weight. THIS is where I needed my GPS. I had no idea the path I took to get from the trail to the kill sight. So I loaded up half of the meat and started off in the general direction I tought the trail was in (I would not miss it if I headed up the mountain). I came to many dead ends and places where I was unable to pass through the brush, but I did eventually make it back to the trail. From there, getting to the tent was easy. I dropped off that load at the tent. I then contemplated leaving the remainder of the meat and rack at the kill-site for fear that I wouldn't be able to find it or possibly get lost in the dark. Knowing there were wolves in the distance earlier, I didn't want to risk loosing the meat, so I headed back for the second load.
I wasn't sure where I deviated from the trail to start heading down the mountain to the kill-site before. I must have tried three different spots before I found the area I knew for sure was where I headed down. I slowly made my way down and across the bumpy terrain. I would get off the atv and look around about every 200 yards to make sure I didn't pass the kill-site. It took me forever in the pitch dark, but I somehow found the kill-site. I loaded it up and headed back up the mountain, this time making better time knowing the terrain better.
I got back to camp around 12:30, put the meat under a tarp (even tho it hadn't rained since 6PM), and I then collapsed in the tent. I was completely drained and exhausted. I was extremely dehydrated and hungry. Remember I wasn't eating breakfast all week, and I didn't have dinner that night because of the caribou stock. I really wanted to eat dinner, but nothing sounded good to me. I simply ate a protein bar and passed out.
At about 3:30AM I woke up thinking I heard something outside. I began to get nervous knowing I had a couple hundred pounds of fresh meat next to my tent. Because of this, I didn't fall back asleep and laid there until daylight started breaking. At this point, I got up, ate as much food as my stomach could handle, and I tore down camp. The sunrise was beautiful that morning. Of course, it was going to be a gorgeous day now that the hunt was over :) The ride out was interesting. My ATV was now a couple hundred pounds heavier and not as stable. To top it off, the week long rain made the trail extremely muddy and flooded. I was bottoming out on rocks that I normally would clear, I was getting stuck in mud that I normally would plow through, and I had to go a lot slower. Toward the end of the 4 hour ride out, I actually dug myself a huge mud hole and could not get out of it. It just so happen, immediately after I got buried, four hunters come around the corner with their big off road vehicles and offered to tow me out. Thank you friendly hunters!!!
I soon returned to my truck, loaded it up, destroyed a couple thousand calories worth of food (By the way, Zebra Cakes are my absolute favorite post hunt junk food. DO NOT get between myself and Zebra Cakes after my hunt), and headed home.
All in all, it was a successful hunt. I learned a ton, field tested my gear to the harsh elements, brought home some meat, and accomplished my goal of being selective. I likely won't be hunting for caribou next year, but I look forward to the next trip like this... but with a little less rain please.
Breakfast of champions; freeze dried scramble eggs!
The cursed grouse!! He had a buddy with him too.
After a long and wet ride, I finally got to my hunting area and tent site.
I saw this eagle most days hunting. He would circle over head and occasionally dive down after a mouse.
My make shift clothes line I strung inside my tent.
The evening storm the night prior to the hunt opener.
There it is... not just a small hole or tear, it was RIPPED. I had a repair kit with me, but this sleeping pad was beyond repair.
The first few caribou of the hunt!
Mamma and baby.
A view up the valley from my glassing rock.
A view down the valley from my glassing rock.
The glassing rock.
A couple more close caribou.
These guys were everywhere! A good little treat too. I forgot to bring anything to put them in so unfortunately Danielle didn't get any.
Typical foggy morning in the valley.
I had to battle sweeping clouds in order to see the ground.
Eight caribou at the bottom of the screen. Four cows and four bulls decided to rest on the ledge beneith me overlooking the valley.
A long day sitting in the tent.
My peep hole in the morning... yup, another crappy hunting day.
This is how I looked most of the time on glassing rock. Bundled up so only my eyes were peaking out.
On the last day, I decided to hike to the cleavage between the mountains. It was a cool looking area. I found a group of 15 caribou at the top of this mountain on the other side of the cleavage. There was no big bull in the group and they were easily too far away.
The downed bull. This guy is no monster by any means, but definitely a big boy. His antlers were very unique as well with extra protrusions close to the head and crossing in front of each other.
Sunrise over the freshly snow capped mountains.
All loaded up and ready to go home.
Denali decided to make an appearance as well.
I had a couple cool videos I took inside my tent. I was sitting there recording the walls of the tent. It was raining so hard and easily blowing 40-50mph that all sound was drained out by the storm. It was so nasty that both outside walls of the tent were caving in and almost touching each other. I would be lying if I said it didn't scare me. I was afraid that tent would collapse at any second. Well now I know that thing can handle a pretty good wind/rain storm without breaking or getting wet inside!!
** A quick shout out to my wife for allowing me to go on this hunt. Danielle really doesn't like me going on hunts be myself. I know it makes her nervous and worry, but she knows how much it means to me and to the freezer. I also want to thank her for letting me use her rifle. That thing is ridiculously accurate, light, and dependable.
Adam, it's Megan Stadlman. These blog posts are great! What a cool and unique experience! I'm not a hunter but I'm definitely jealous of your outdoor adventures in Alaska!
ReplyDeleteHappy and safe hunting and adventuring to you and your wife!